


Sing Together

by the_sky_is_forever



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Falling In Love, Fluff, Grantaire Likes To Sing, Les Mis Song Lyrics, Love Confessions, M/M, Singing, Song Lyrics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-17
Updated: 2015-09-17
Packaged: 2018-04-21 06:26:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4818569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_sky_is_forever/pseuds/the_sky_is_forever
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s not that Enjolras hates music – he really doesn’t. Enjolras actually has a very wide range of music that he adores; he’s one of those people who simply cannot go a day without music.<br/>What Enjolras hates is that Joly and Bossuet invited a new guy to Les Amis who simply will not stop singing. </p><p>- In which Grantaire sings songs from Les Mis and Enjolras falls steadily in love with him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sing Together

It’s not that Enjolras hates music – he really doesn’t. Enjolras actually has a very wide range of music that he adores; he’s one of those people who simply cannot go a day without music.

What Enjolras hates is that Joly and Bossuet invited a new guy to Les Amis who simply will _not stop singing_.

The guy can carry a tune, and that’s more than can be said for most of Enjolras’ friends, and even Enjolras himself, but _God_ , will he ever stop?

Somehow, he always manages to tie the songs in with something that someone said too – and Enjolras has never heard these songs before. Does he just make them up on the spot? It seems likely.

The first week he showed up, Enjolras had been talking about a rally that was coming up the next week, something that Éponine and Musichetta had organised with the help of a rather large group of non-members due to the new enforced dress code that their university had brought about. Part way through Enjolras’ tirade, he’d said something about how everyone was needed to take part, and the new guy hadn’t hesitated before joining in. _With a song_.

His voice had been loud and clear, despite the large quantity of alcohol that he had consumed that night.

_Students, workers, everyone: There’s a river on the run, like the flowing of the tide, Paris coming to our side._

The room had gone deathly silent, and almost everyone turned to look at the man, all seeming very confused. All, that is, except for Joly and Bossuet, who seemed to be having a rather difficult time holding their laughter in. 

Enjolras raised one eyebrow haughtily, and slowly and deliberately said, “Excuse me?”

The man shrugged. “Sorry. Felt appropriate.”

“It wasn’t,” was Enjolras cool response. That had set Joly and Bossuet off completely, unable to hold back their laughter any longer.

Enjolras had given them a very disapproving stare, and Combeferre had gotten to his feet and said, “If we could all get back on track, please.”

And they had. Enjolras resumed his speech, and Joly, Bossuet, and the New Guy had settled down to actually listen.

At the end, Enjolras had approached their table. New Guy looked up at him with surprise. Thankfully no song greeted Enjolras at that moment. Enjolras introduced himself, and New Guy did him the same courtesy, announcing – there really was no other way for the grand way he’d said his name – as Grantaire. Then he’d added, “Or R. Either works.”

“He’s willing to help,” Joly had then inputted.

“Really?” Enjolras asked.

“Absolutely.” Grantaire nodded.

“Not in song?”

Grantaire had, irritatingly but probably predictably, replied in song.

_What will you give me?_

Joly and Bossuet had answered instantly.

_Anything!_

Enjolras tutted. “Just keep the singing down, alright?”

The three men had laughed as Enjolras walked away to re-join Combeferre and Courfeyrac.

Later that night, while everyone was still hanging around the Musain _,_ Grantaire was exponentially more drunk, and he’d chosen to… serenade Enjolras. Much to Enjolras’ displeasure.

Enjolras had been propped up against the bar, talking with Madam Houcheloup when Grantaire had appeared next to him.

_In my life, he has burst like the music of angels, the light of the sun_

Enjolras rolled his eyes, “Go away, Grantaire. I told you to stop with the singing.”

Grantaire had let out a loud laugh and grinned at him.

_And my life seems to stop_

Enjolras started to walk back to Courfeyrac who was watching with open amusement. Enjolras gave him a withering look for that as Grantaire desperately sang.

_As if something is over, and something has scarcely begun_

Grantaire followed Enjolras across the room and he grabbed Bossuet around the neck, swinging on him.

_Bossuet, you’re the friend who has brought me here_

Bossuet laughed and shoved Grantaire off him and Grantaire gestured at him dramatically.

_Thanks to you I am at one with the Gods_

Then he turned back to Enjolras with a wide sweeping gesture that belonged more on a Broadway stage than the café.

_And Heaven is near!_

Grantaire flopped onto the table in front of Enjolras, who was determinedly staring straight ahead. “Grantaire,” he said lowly, and Grantaire smiled back at him, innocently with wide eyes.

“Yes, Apollo?”

Enjolras’ lips had twitched, just a little, the beginnings of a small smile, but he’d stood up before it could fully form and said, “Combeferre, let’s go.”

Combeferre had stood up and walked with Enjolras to the door. Just before they left, Enjolras had turned back, back to Grantaire who was still sitting on the table, staring after him with a smile, and he’d said, “I said to stop singing.”

Grantaire gasped, dramatically, and pretended to swoon, holding one hand up to his forehead.

_Every word that he says is a dagger in me._

Enjolras had rolled his eyes and left.

-

The problem is, it never did stop.

Grantaire constantly begins conversations with a sung _How do you do?_ that always seems as if it was cut off mid-line.

He catches the eye of one of the girls in their group and sings _What pretty hair, what pretty locks you’ve got there_ or, once when trying to entice Éponine into a drinking game he was playing: _Lovely lady, come along and join us!_

He jumps into the middle of Enjolras’ speeches with a loud and dramatic: _To rally the people, to call them to arms, to bring them in line!_

On occasion, his songs actually bring a smile to Enjolras’ face – the most memorable being the time a stranger was being rather vocal and, well, rude, and Grantaire leant over to Bahorel and sang: _Poor men, rich men, leaders of the land, see them with their trousers off, they're never quite as grand!_

Then it starts to become a problem, in quite a different way.                                                                            

When Marius comes running into the Musain, halfway through a meeting, breathing very heavily, and Enjolras says, “Marius, you’re late,” the interruption seems to signal to everyone else that what Enjolras had been saying could be left for later.

Courfeyrac says, “You alright, Marius?” and the man grins sheepishly.

“I’m really sorry that I’m late, I am, I got talking to a woman and…”

This soon dissolves into everyone interrogating Marius about this mysterious woman, when Grantaire’s suddenly in the thick of it, and Enjolras sighs long-sufferingly.

_Is Marius in love at last? I’ve never heard him ‘ooh’ and ‘aah’_

Only, it wasn’t _really_ an ‘ooh’ and an ‘aah’. In reality, it pretty much sounded exactly how Enjolras’ last boyfriend had sounded when Enjolras pinned him against the wall and bit down on his neck, one hand fisting into his hair and the other-

Enjolras’ jaw dropped open, and he knew that his face was going red.

“I should fucking hope not,” Courfeyrac laughs, looking at Grantaire with an almost amazed look.

“Sorry.” Grantaire winks. “No touching your ex, right?”

“Not when you’ve got a girlf-,” Courfeyrac’s voice is cut off by Grantaire slamming his hand over his mouth, just slightly too late.

Bahorel looks up in glee. “Grantaire has a girlfriend?” he exclaims.

Enjolras just stands there, jaw slack, until Combeferre leans in close and whispers, “Are you alright?”

For once, Enjolras is lost for words. “Uh, um, I’ve- I’ve got to-.”

He manages, at least, to walk out of the Musain, as opposed to stumbling. Behind him he hears someone call after him, but he keeps walking.

-

The next day, when Enjolras and Combeferre turn up at Courfeyrac’s, Courfeyrac ambushes Enjolras the second he walks through the door. “So, you made a quick exit the other night.”

Enjolras sighs heavily. “Can we not talk about this?”

“Oh, no, we are _absolutely_ talking about this,” Courfeyrac replies.

Enjolras flops down onto Courfeyrac’s sofa, saying, “As long as no one sings, I might manage that,” as Combeferre and Courfeyrac sit either side of him. Courfeyrac grins widely at that.

“Don’t get me wrong, man, I see where you’re coming from, when he made those noises, I almost considered jumping his bones,” Courfeyrac says, making Enjolras glare at him. “But even so. I mean. Grantaire?” Courfeyrac asks. “ _Grantaire?_ ”

“Believe me, I know,” Enjolras replies, sullenly. “He has a girlfriend?” he then asks, because he just has to know.

Courfeyrac unsuccessfully stifles a laugh, and Enjolras shoots him a glare. “No,” Courfeyrac admits. “I was just teasing him about his friend – Floréal. They’ve been spending a lot of time together recently.”

“But they’re not dating?”

“ _No_ , Enjolras. Besides, what’s the point of all this? Are you going to admit to your feelings?” Courfeyrac asks him, eyebrow raised.

Enjolras groans and buries his face in his hands. “No.”

“And why not?” Courfeyrac prompts.

“Because it’s ridiculous! It’s Grantaire! He’s annoying, and irritating, and he calls me ‘Apollo’, and he sings _all the time_ , and, and, oh, God…” Enjolras trails off, sighing. “He’s really attractive.”

At least Combeferre has the decency to not laugh. Courfeyrac has no such thing. Enjolras slumps further into the sofa, wishing that the pillows will just swallow him whole.

-

He’s not spying – he’s not. It’s not creepy, either.

So Éponine’s younger siblings are around for a while, because she couldn’t bear them being in her parent’s house. She’s only keeping them for a short amount of time, getting away with it because her parents are away on a “business deal” and they weren’t taking the kids with them.

Éponine asked Enjolras and Courfeyrac round for a little legal advice, since she’s been looking into becoming the legal guardian of her siblings, but none of them had anticipated how Éponine’s younger sister, Azelma, would react to strange men in the house.

She’d looked nothing short of terrified, shaking and crying, while Éponine gathered her up in her arms and Grantaire ushered Courfeyrac and Enjolras into the kitchen. “Stay here,” he’d told them, before vanishing from the room.

Éponine had come back soon after that, saying that Grantaire was calming Azelma down.

The three of them had gotten on with business, Enjolras and Courfeyrac talking Éponine through the process of her getting legal rights to her brother and sister, but all Enjolras could think about was the look of fear on the younger girl’s face.

Enjolras excused himself after about an hour of work, asking where the bathroom was, and he headed down the hallway.

That’s how he ended up standing outside Grantaire’s bedroom, transfixed.

Grantaire’s holding Azelma in his arms, petting her hair softly as they lean against the headboard, her head resting in his lap. He’s singing quietly, so quietly that Enjolras is straining to hear him, but he can make out most of the lines.

_There is a room that’s filled with toys_

_There are a hundred boys and girls_

He gently untangles her hair with his fingers as he sings softly, and the little girl’s sobs are muffled.

_Nobody shouts or talks too loud_

_Not in my castle on a cloud_

Enjolras leans up against the wall outside the bedroom, listening and watching through the crack in the doorway. Azelma sniffs, loudly, and Grantaire makes a soothing noise. He shifts, holding her more loosely, so that she’s lying out, though he continues to stroke her hair.

_There is a lady all in white_

_Holds me and sings a lullaby_

_She's nice to see and she's soft to touch_

_She says, “Zelma, I love you very much.”_

Azelma has stopped sniffling now, and Enjolras suspects that she’s dropping off to sleep – soothed by Grantaire’s gentle singing.

Grantaire smiles down at the girl.

_I know a place where no one's lost_

_I know a place where no one cries_

Enjolras takes a deep breath, biting down on his lip, hard.

_Crying at all is not allowed_

_Not in my castle on a cloud_

Enjolras swallows, shivering slightly.

“We’re not going to let anyone hurt you anymore, Zelma,” Grantaire whispers.

“You promise?” Azelma asks, her voice timid.

“I promise.”

There’s very little point in denying that Enjolras is fast falling in love with Grantaire’s sweet, delicate voice.

-

_Hey there, Monsieur, what’s new with you? Plotting to overthrow the state?_

Enjolras looks up at the sound of Grantaire’s singing as the man in question drops into the seat across from him. He smiles, a little ruefully, and says, “Hi, Grantaire.”

Grantaire grins. “So?” he asks. “Are you?”

Enjolras rolls his eyes and gestures vaguely at the papers in front of him. “Éponine,” he says, by way of explaining.

“Ah,” Grantaire says. “Éponine.” He coughs, slightly, and then says, “Thanks, by the way. For- Uh, for doing this for her. I mean, she’s not paying you to do this, so-”

“When have I ever done things for money?” Enjolras asks, with a smile. “I can help her and she’s my friend. I’m glad to do this; I don’t need your thanks. If I can get those kids into an environment that’s loving and doesn’t make them terrified of strangers, then I’ll do it willingly and give it everything I’ve got.”

Grantaire stares at him, his lips parted slightly. Then he quirks a smile.

_I like the way you talk, Monsieur_

Enjolras doesn't sing his response, but the words spring to his lips naturally. “I like the way you always tease.”

Grantaire blinks at him in surprise, like he doesn’t quite know what to do with that.

Enjolras glances at his watch then and jumps to his feet in surprise at the time, grabbing his papers and stuffing them into his bag. “Shit,” he curses. “Sorry, I’ve got to go – I’m late for a thing.”

“A thing,” Grantaire echoes, dryly.

Enjolras looks down at him. “Yes, a thing. A thing with Combeferre. Sorry to run out on you like this,” he says. “It was nice to see you!”

He leaves quickly then, rushing out the door.

It’s not till he gets to Combeferre’s that he realises he left his phone on the table.

He swears loudly when he notices and begs Combeferre to let him use his phone. He sends a fast text to Grantaire – _Hi I think I left my phone in the café do you have it?_ – and stares at the screen till Grantaire replies.

_i’m assuming this is enjolras yes i have ur phone do u want me to bring it round to combeferres_

_No,_ Enjolras replies, _that’s alright. I’ll come round yours in a bit to pick it up, will you be home?_

_not till four is that too late_

_That’s fine. I’ll see you then. Don’t break my phone!_

_wouldn’t dream of it sweetheart_

When Enjolras looks up, grinning, he finds Combeferre watching him, and amused expression on his face.

“Texting Grantaire?” he asks.

Enjolras gives him the middle finger and tosses his phone back to him.

-

When Enjolras arrives at Grantaire and Éponine’s flat, it’s a little later than he’d said. The clock said quarter to six when he left Combeferre’s.

He knocks on the door and waits patiently to be let in.

Grantaire opens the door wearing, of all things, a pink ‘Kiss the Cook’ apron. “I forgot you were coming,” Grantaire says, instead of actually greeting him.

Enjolras laughs and says, “I’d forgotten that I needed to. Sorry about the lateness, were you busy?”

Grantaire looks down at his apron and says, “I was in the middle of a fashion show, actually.” Enjolras laughs again, and Grantaire steps aside to let him in. “Come on, I think I left your phone in my bag.”

Enjolras walks in hesitantly, looking around the room. “Is Azelma here?” he asks.

Grantaire gives him an understanding look. “Yes, but you should be okay. There’s only one of you, for starters, and I think we have her convinced that you’re our friend.”

Enjolras nods, still feeling a little wary – he doesn’t want to scare the girl.

Grantaire leads the way into the front room, where Éponine, Gavroche, and Azelma are sitting on the sofa watching TV together. Something smells delicious in the kitchen, reminding Enjolras that he hasn’t eaten yet.

Grantaire grabs his bag from the corner of the room, where he must have tossed it, and he roots around in it, finally pulling out Enjolras’ phone with a celebratory cry. He hands it to Enjolras with a considerable amount of performance.

Enjolras says his thanks, unlocking the phone to see how many messages he’s missed. Quite a few, it seems, and he groans at the prospect of going through them all. His stomach grumbles and he presently ignores it, clicking on the text from Marius.

Glancing up, he finds the entire room staring at him. “What?” he asks. Then he blinks. “Oh, right, sorry, yeah. I’ll be on my way then. Thanks for this,” he says, holding his phone up and turning to leave.

He catches Grantaire’s eye and Grantaire’s looking at him in a way that can only be described as incredulous.

“What?” Enjolras asks again, now confused.

“Did you just- Was that your _stomach_?” Grantaire asks. “When did you last eat?”

Enjolras blushes, suddenly understanding why they’re staring and feeling a little foolish. “Oh, uh, yeah, um- I don’t know?”

“Christ,” Grantaire says.

“You’re staying for dinner,” Éponine adds, sounding serious.

“I don’t want to impose,” Enjolras protests, weakly, but Éponine and Grantaire are looking at him like they’re not going to _let_ him leave till they see him eat something.

He ends up staying for dinner – Grantaire’s a very good cook actually and he keeps up a constant stream of conversation, and Enjolras keeps accidentally letting himself stare at Grantaire for longer than is socially acceptable. He hopes that Grantaire doesn’t notice, though Gavroche certainly does, since he takes to kicking Enjolras under the table every time he stares. Which is often. Enjolras is going to leave with bruises all over his legs.

After dinner, Grantaire sees him out, a smile on his face.

“Thanks for dinner,” Enjolras says, standing in the doorway, unable to stop grinning. “It was delicious.”

“Thanks for letting me feed you,” Grantaire replies. “Don’t forget to eat tomorrow, yeah, Apollo? I’ll be checking up on you. We can’t have our golden boy collapsing from malnutrition.”

Enjolras laughs, ignoring the ridiculous nickname. “I’ll do my best,” he says.

After Enjolras leaves, he realises that he’s never spent so long with Grantaire without the other man singing before.

-

When they get kicked out of the Musain because Bahorel punched a stranger who tried to start shit with Jehan, Enjolras is at a bit of a loss.

That is until Grantaire and Éponine approach him and offer their home.

“I mean, it’ll have to be temporary,” Éponine says.

“But we know that you don’t have room for it at yours,” Grantaire finishes.

Enjolras could kiss them.

So meetings resume, now taking place at Grantaire and Éponine’s flat.

One night, after the meeting, Jehan somehow manages to talk Grantaire and Éponine into hosting a movie night, “Since we’re all already here.”

A little ruefully, Grantaire and Éponine agree, but only on the condition that everyone helps tidy up before they leave. Enjolras suspects that they’re only putting up a little resistance for appearance sake, and that just seems to be confirmed by the way Éponine and Grantaire happily curl up on the sofa with Bossuet, Joly, and Musichetta. (No one’s entirely sure how they’re all fitting, but they are.)

Enjolras catches himself wishing that Grantaire had sat with him, however, and when he gets up to get a drink, he goes to sit down at Grantaire’s feet instead of sitting back next to Combeferre. Combeferre raises an eyebrow at him, and Enjolras sticks his tongue out, letting his head loll back against Grantaire’s knees. If Grantaire’s in any way surprised by this, he doesn’t show it. In fact, after a few minutes, he starts playing with Enjolras’ hair whilst watching the movie. It’s nice.

No one really wants to go out into the cold this late at night, so when the movie ends, Grantaire and Éponine gather all the blankets and quilts they can find, and everyone sprawls out to sleep on the living room.

Enjolras struggles to sleep, and when he notices Grantaire get to his feet, over two hours after everyone else’s breathing has evened out, Enjolras follows.

He’s not sure where Grantaire has gone, at first, but then he hears him singing, and Enjolras follows the sound.

_Sometimes I walk alone at night when everybody else is sleeping_

_I think of him and then I’m happy with the company I’m keeping_

_The city goes to bed and I can live inside my head_

Enjolras stops still outside the room that Grantaire’s voice is coming from, and he listens. Grantaire pauses for a moment, before continuing, his voice lower now.

_On my own, pretending he’s beside me_

Enjolras flinches. This seems private. He can hear a soft accompaniment on a piano, and supposes that it’s Grantaire that is playing. Creeping forwards, Enjolras waits just outside the door to Grantaire’s music room.

_Without him, I feel his arms around me_

_And when I lose my way, I close my eyes, and he has found me_

Grantaire’s voice is soft and quiet, a gentle sound in the night. Enjolras can’t tell if this is a song that Grantaire wrote, or not, but he supposes there must be some truth, some measure of honesty, to it.

Enjolras is helpless to do anything but stand there, listening. Grantaire weaves his way through the pattern of vocals, rising and falling easily and beautifully. Even so, he sounds sad, and Enjolras wants to go to him.

_And I know it’s only in my mind_

_That I’m talking to myself and not to him_

_And although I know that he is blind_

_Still I say, there’s a way for us_

Enjolras can’t imagine anyone turning Grantaire’s affections away. He sinks to the floor, leaning back against the wall as he listens.

The hairs on the back of his neck stand up and he shivers as Grantaire’s voice rises, becoming more broken and yet still so clear. The emotion in Grantaire’s voice is undeniable.

_I love him_

_But every day I’m learning_

_All my life_

_I’ve only been pretending_

Grantaire’s voice is nowhere near the soft musings that it was at the start of the song, and Enjolras wonders how anyone in the house is still asleep.

_Without me_

_His world will go on turning_

_A world that’s full of happiness that I will never know_

Enjolras bits his lip to stop the tears from spilling over, and he wants nothing more than to go into the room and to hug Grantaire. To hold him tightly and promise him that he’s not alone. To do that, however, would be too invasive.

_I love him_

Grantaire sings softly again, the piano almost dropping to nothing. Enjolras gets to his feet, ready to creep away, but he stays just a moment longer to hear the last of the song.

_I love him_

_I love him_

_But only on my own_

Enjolras hears a sharp intake of breath from within the room, followed by a sniff, and he knows Grantaire’s crying. Instead of doing anything, he slowly sneaks back to the living room where the others all lay sleeping.

Enjolras goes to lie down in between Combeferre and Courfeyrac, and as he stretches out beside his best friends, they both reach out for him, wrapping their arms around him. He wonders how much of Grantaire’s song they heard.

He shivers, despite their warm embrace, and when Grantaire comes back into the room and goes to lie down near Joly and Bossuet, Enjolras pretends to sleep, watching him through his eyelashes by the light of the moon.

Grantaire leans against the sofa, trembling, one of his hands resting on Joly’s ankle.

Enjolras almost calls over to him, but Courfeyrac’s grip tightening on his wrist reminds him of who he is, of who Grantaire is. He leaves it, but every time Grantaire sniffs, or lifts a hand to wipe away tears, it settles heavily in Enjolras’ stomach.

-

The next day, Enjolras decides to do something about this situation, and when he gets up in the morning, he drinks a mug of coffee, and then walks over to Grantaire’s flat.

The moment he lowers his hand from knocking on the door, he feels unbelievably nervous. He almost walks away, nearly managing to talk himself out of it, but then the door swings open, revealing an Éponine who looks rather upset. She looks him up and down, and wipes angrily at the dampness under her eyes.

“What are you doing here?” she demands, her voice thick.

“I’m- Is everything alright?” he ends up asking. She looks awful.

“Just fine,” she snaps.

“I’m here to see Grantaire?” he then says, hesitantly, when it becomes clear that she doesn’t want to talk about the problem.

“He’s still in his room; you can go through if you want.” She steps aside to let him in. “You know where you’re going?”

Enjolras blushes. “Yes.”

She then says, “Oh, wait, take this,” and ducks into the kitchen, before coming out holding two mugs of coffee. “I just made it. You can have the other one. He’ll not be capable of holding a conversation without this.”

Enjolras quickly thanks her and takes the mugs.

When he reaches the door, he realises that he has no free hands, and he dithers at the closed door for a moment. “Grantaire?” he calls. No response. He tries again, and when Grantaire is still silent inside he rolls his eyes and then attempts to use his foot to open the door, while not spilling the coffee all over Éponine and Grantaire’s carpet.

That’s the position he is in when Grantaire opens his bedroom door. Enjolras freezes, one leg still in the air. “Hi,” he says. “Coffee?”

Grantaire looks at him for a long moment, takes the coffee, and then goes back inside his room, leaving the door wide open. Enjolras takes that to be an invitation, and quickly puts his foot back down to follow him inside.

Grantaire settles back into his bed and holds the mug so that the rim is a couple of centimetres from his face, breathing in the rich smell. His eyes watch Enjolras. “Were you going to try and open my door with your foot?” he asks.

“I- Yes,” Enjolras says, and shifts, uncomfortably.

Grantaire huffs a little amused sound, and the corners of his mouth creep up a little. He takes a sip of coffee and pulls a face, clearly at how hot it is. “What are you doing here, Apollo?” Grantaire asks. “And are you going to come sit down?”

“Oh,” Enjolras says, “yes, alright.” He moves to join Grantaire on the bed, sitting cross-legged at the end of it, mug held between his two hands. He clears his throat. “I’m sorry for how early it is,” he says, despite the fact that it’s almost eleven, and really, that’s not early at all, “but I wanted to talk to you. In fact, I was wondering if, perhaps, you’d like to go on a date with me?”

Enjolras supposes that it must be due to the fact that Grantaire just woke up, that he’s a little slow on the uptake. Grantaire frowns. He takes another sip of the coffee, which is still too hot to drink, and then he puts the mug on his bedside table. He sits up a little straighter, leaning towards Enjolras. “You’d like to take me out on a date?” he asks, flatly.

Enjolras forces himself to maintain eye contact. “Yes,” Enjolras says. “I would like that very much.”

Grantaire leans back. He eyes Enjolras, still frowning. “I don’t understand,” he says. “Did someone put you up to this?”

The frown is starting to turn from confusion to hurt, and Enjolras can see how crushed Grantaire is trying to pretend that he isn’t.

“No, R,” Enjolras says, quickly. “No one put me up to this, Grantaire. I want to date you. If you don’t want to just say so, and I’ll leave, it’s fine, I just… I thought I’d ask. Just in case. I thought maybe you…”

Grantaire starts chewing on his thumbnail, watching Enjolras with wide-eyes. “I do,” Grantaire says, lowering his hand, quickly. “I do like you. I just, didn’t think you did.”

“I do,” Enjolras immediately confirms. He smiles. “That’s why I’m here. Asking you on a date.”

Grantaire pauses for another second, but then he nods. “Alright, then,” he says. “Yeah. Yeah, I’ll go on a date with you.”

From there, they go much too fast, falling into bed with each other by the end of the night, losing themselves in one another’s touch and feeling so very, madly in love. At least, that’s how Enjolras feels. Grantaire remains a mystery to him, but the way he caresses his skin and presses revering kisses down his chest is a good indicator that his feelings are very much reciprocated.

Later, Grantaire curls around Enjolras, and Enjolras suspects that Grantaire thinks he’s asleep – the way he starts singing, carefully and lightly, confirms it.

_Suddenly I see_

_Suddenly it starts_

_Can two anxious hearts beat as one?_

Enjolras does his best to keep still, his breathing even to mimic sleep. Grantaire’s voice is quiet and gentle, unassuming and wary, as if he’s uncertain as to how much of this is real.

_Yesterday I was alone_

_Today you walk beside me_

_Something still unclear_

_Something not yet here has begun_

Enjolras smiles to himself, as Grantaire’s arm wraps around his middle, holding him close. He’s less singing, and more whispering the words at points, and Enjolras half wishes he could hear the tune properly.

_Suddenly the world_

_Seems a different place_

_Somehow full of grace and delight_

Grantaire’s lips press against Enjolras’ back momentarily, a gentle kiss upon his skin. Enjolras keeps his eyes closed, wrapped in Grantaire’s warm embrace, and he’s never felt more loved.

_How was I to know at last that happiness can come so fast?_

Another smile slips onto Enjolras’ lips.

_I’m so afraid of failing you_

‘You could never,’ Enjolras thinks. He wants to turn and press kisses to Grantaire’s lips, but that would stop the singing, and that’s something he never wants to happen.

_There are shadows everywhere_

_And memories I cannot share_

‘They wouldn’t make me love you less,’ Enjolras thinks.

_Nevermore alone_

_Nevermore apart_

_You have warmed my heart like the sun_

His words remind Enjolras of that ridiculous nickname that he loves so dearly. It had slipped out of Grantaire’s mouth when Enjolras pressed kisses down his stomach, but only once. Every other time, he’d said his name, and it was lovely.

_You have brought the gift of life_

_And love so long denied me_

‘It’s yours,’ Enjolras thinks. ‘My love is yours.’

_Suddenly I see_

_What I could not see_

_Something suddenly_

_Has begun._

Grantaire kisses the back of Enjolras’ neck, almost reverent in his touch, and Enjolras’ heart flutters.

He’s so in love.

-

“I’m not a very good singer,” Enjolras tells Grantaire one day, when they’re sitting on the sofa, watching some trash reality TV show that they both secretly like.

Grantaire turns to him with one eyebrow raised, humour evident on his face. “That can’t be true. I bet you sing like an angel.”

Enjolras laughs and replies, “I may look like one, but my voice bears no resemblance.”

Grantaire grins and says, “Someone’s feeling confident about himself.”

“You tell me often enough,” Enjolras says. “Anyway, the point is: I can’t sing. Not even to save my life.”

“Sure you can,” Grantaire exclaims. “You just have to make it like one of your speeches!” He jumps to his feet and turns to face Enjolras, who’s sitting on the sofa looking bemused. Grantaire clears his throat.

_The colours of the world are changing day by day!_

_Red! The blood of angry men!_

_Black! The dark of ages past!_

_Red! A world about to dawn!_

_Black! The night that ends at last!_

Grantaire finishes, with a flourish and grins down at Enjolras, who’s looking at him with a fond expression.

“I love you, so much,” Enjolras says, and Grantaire goes red, blushing and stuttering a few half formed words. Enjolras doesn’t even look slightly embarrassed.

Stunned, Grantaire manages to say, “I love you, too.” He laughs a little and then takes a few steps towards Enjolras, straddling him on the sofa with his knees on either side of his legs and he takes Enjolras’ face in his hands and kisses him firmly. Enjolras kisses back, but he can’t stop grinning, neither of them can, actually, so they just end up smiling at each other with their faces close together.

Grantaire smiles and then, so very softly sings:

_A heart full of love, a heart full of you,_

_A single look and then I knew._

And Enjolras replies, “I knew it, too.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! I hope you liked it. This was a bit cracky, admittedly, but once I had the idea in my head I had to write it! It was a lot of fun, actually, hahaa.
> 
> I have a writing blog: theskyis-forever come say hi and leave a prompt :)
> 
> Also, if you enjoyed this: [buy me a coffee?](http://ko-fi.com/A831F9U)


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